For the bones we carry along the way, the stories our grandparents told us, impressed like a seal on the wax of our hearts: give thanks.For the taste of haroset which lingers for weeks. The rhythm of footsteps, the pull to move forward though the sea licks our ankles. The waters will part.

When we dance, when we notice the stars overhead and draw new constellations: the leader, the timbrel then our ancestors' struggles were worth it.The path from constriction to covenant calls

-- keep on walking.

Today is the 26th day of the Omer, making three weeks and five days of the Omer. This is the 26th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

Even if this is the path you're meant to walkno one promised pedicures and crumpets.Don't you think the children of Israel struggledunder the weight of not-knowing what lay ahead?Resting when the cloud of glory paused,and marching when it lifted, no questions asked?No door worth opening, no journey worth takingcan be wholly mapped in advance. No one knows(except for God) what's on the other side.

This is the 25th day of the Omer, making three weeks and four days of the Omer. This is the 25th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm this is the day of netzach she'b'netzach, the day of endurance within the week of endurance. This poem is an acrostic; if you read vertically down the first letter of each line, you'll see its theme.

The only rule I know:two stones on one, one stone on two. Fit them snugso they won't topple after the first cycle of freeze and thaw.If I could fly over New England low enough to lookthrough leafless trees I'd see the earth seamed like a baseball,old walls the stitches holding her together. Some have slumpedover centuries, granite and gneiss sliding gracefullyto the side, but even in ruin the walls endure.What will I build in my lifetime to last as long?

Today is the 24th day of the Omer, making three weeks and three days of the Omer. This is the 24th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

Today's poem was inspired by one of last year's NaPoWriMo prompts -- the invitation to write a poem about stone walls or arches.

Afternoon's flat hot whitegives way to the electric greenof minarets against evening's blur.

Old city divides: herecrosses, there metal crescents.Judaism's in the paving stones.

I press against the wallto let the Land Rover pass,the bike, the men with sidecurls.

I wish these dusty Coke bottleswere inscribed in two languages.Harmony's a long way off.

Taste and see: our story crackleslike pastry drenched with honey.

Torah is a fresh figready to be parted and savored.There's enough to share.

Long after every border blows awaylike chalk dust on the windher waters will endure.

Today is the 23rd day of the Omer, making three weeks and two days of the Omer. This is the 23rd day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

Today's poem was sparked by one of Luisa A. Igloria's prompts from last year - the one from April 22, which suggested stanzas, moving through space, synonyms for light, the words "metal," "electric," and "blur," the present tense, references to two sweets, and a reference to a commercial from my childhood. (Can you find the reference to the commercial?)

In the kabbalistic paradigm, today is the day of gevurah she'b'netzach, the day of boundaries or borders or strength within the week of endurance. As I worked with Luisa's prompt, I found myself thinking about Jerusalem, and borders, and what endures.

They steamed south until pack ice closed in.Faith in the journey kept spirits high.Always knew they'd reach the promised land.They'd trek across the expanse of white.

Faith in the journey kept spirits high.The continent was a blank page before them.They'd trek across the expanse of whitescribing holy writ with sledges and skis.

The continent was a blank page before them.The ship groaned, then buckled. Scribing holy writ with sledges and skisthey decamped to the ice, watched her go down.

The ship groaned, then buckled.Any sane man knew they were lost.They decamped to the ice, watched her go down.Hauled their lifeboats over mountains of ice.

Any sane man knew they were lost.But Shackleton wouldn't let them lose hope.They hauled lifeboats over mountains of iceand rowed 800 miles in the world's worst seas.

Shackleton wouldn't let them lose hope.To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!They rowed 800 miles in the world's worst seasand he brought every man home alive.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!They'd steamed south until pack ice closed in.He brought every man home alive.Always knew they'd reach the promised land.

Today is the 22nd day of the Omer, making three weeks and one day of the Omer. This is the 22nd day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, between liberation and revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm, today begins the week of netzach, endurance. As I've written before, I can't hear the word "endurance" without thinking of Ernest Shackleton's Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914-17. That's what inspired today's poem.

Five roads diverged. Eliezer chose the pathof vision. Yehoshua chased friendship.Yossi wanted to be a good neighbor. Shimon sought to think ahead. But Elazarcraved a good heart, and their teacher saidI prefer the words of Elazarbecause his choice includes all of yours.

A good heart. In gematria, good plus heart-- seventeen plus thirty-two -- equals 49,the days of the Omer. Three weeks in:press a metaphysical stethoscope to your ribsand listen to the lub-dub of your lev.Tap with your fingers: is its tough exteriorsoftening like pliable red wax in the sun?

Can you carve grooves of gratitude, tracethe map of this meditation labyrinthand leave an imprint? Make runnels in the clayand see what flows through you. Instillinga new habit takes a month of practice.Four weeks remain before it's time to harvest.What grows inside your four chambers?

Today is the 21st day of the Omer, making three weeks of the Omer. Today is the 21st day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, between liberation and revelation.

Gematria is Jewish number-math. In Hebrew, letters double as numbers, which means that every word also has a numerical meaning.

Lev is the Hebrew word for "heart."

In one Mussar model, today is the day to meditate on the quality of לב טוב, a good heart. That phrase reminded me of a Hasidic teaching about the importance of having a good heart, which I blogged some years ago on Lag b'Omer: The bonfire of the expansive heart.

Today is the 20th day of the Omer, making two weeks and six days of the Omer. This is the 20th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, from liberation to revelation.

Today's poem was inspired by an image from the podcast Welcome to Night Vale, of a house in which the windows looked out on another world, and also by teachings I first heard in 2003 (I think from Rabbi Moshe Aharon / Rabbi Miles Krassen) about how we are windows and teshuvah (repentance or re/turn) is a process of clearing away grime.

In a town by the sea, where the air is sweet withdune-growing roses and licked lips taste likesalt, where the wind whips your prayer shawl intothe air like wings with a mind of their own, whereat dawn machines groom the abandoned beach,readying the canvas of the day for whatever holyinscriptions will be written by childrens' feet,where the luminous sky cycles through periwinkleand gold and the blue of hand-tied tzitzit, if youcan balance on one foot without wobbling and teachTorah to everyone who asks, you might glimpse the humble splendor of this nineteenth day tuckedinside the empty paper cup which once held pale frozen lemonade, rattling across the expanse of sand.

Today is the 19th day of the Omer, making two weeks and five days of the Omer. This is the 19th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

Remember the first slice of breadafter seven days of matzah -- how the sawtoothed knife cut throughthe airy crumb against the dragof crust, steam risingfrom the newly-baked loaf:manna after a week of hardtack.What will Torah taste likeafter seven weeks of counting?

Today is the seventeenth day of the Omer, making two weeks and three days of the Omer. This is the 17th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In the kabbalistic framework, today is the day of tiferet she'b'tiferet, balance and harmony within balance and harmony (it's the day of tiferet within the week of tiferet.) Today's poem didn't arise out of that fact, but I think there's something special about today being the day of balance and harmony squared, so I figured I'd mention it.

(Of course, I mean "today" in the Jewish sense -- the day which began on Monday evening at sundown and ends Tuesday evening at sundown -- so those of you who receive these blog posts by email as East Coast evening approaches will be reading this poem as the day of tiferet squared approaches its end.)

How much of your life will you spend seeking shoes?Hunting the keys you're certain you left in a pocket,sunglasses resting unnoticed on top of your head?Meanwhile the Holy One hides in plain sight.

Practice moderation even in your boot rack. Let habitguide you to glide through routine, scuff on your sandalswhile ice rattles in your glass. With the minutes you gleansay thanks for the big bang still unfolding.

Push your cart through the cluttered aisles.Don't forget the intangibles: how will you nourishthe part of you that thrives not on bread but on song?The sages say: what you're seeking is already here.

Today is the sixteenth day of the Omer, which makes two weeks and two days of the Omer. This is the 16th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In the Mussar tradition, today is a day for focusing on the quality of "Apply business acumen to living." While I don't resonate with everything in this essay by R' Noah Weinberg, one line from the essay sparked this poem: "How much of your life will you spend being a shoe seeker?"

A hidden name of God. Steps ascending to the Temple, each with its own psalm.

Words in the blessing which places God's Name on the people, opening channels.

Morning thank-yous, each hinting at the Exodus: once, a plague of darkness --

now we see clearly. Once slaves forbidden to stand tall -- now our spines are straight.

Gates we opened two weeks ago passing through each adorned arch moving from degradation to joy.

Today is the fifteenth day of the Omer, making two weeks and one day of the Omer. This is the 15th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

In Hebrew, letters also double as numbers. The simplest way to write the number fifteen spells Yah, a holy name of God. (For this reason we often write 9 and 6 instead of 10 and 5, so as not to be using that holy name in vain.) Fifteen is a number with deep significance in Jewish tradition.

Two weeks out of Egypt, were our ancestorsfootsore? First, the jubilation of skipping townwithout even a sourdough starter --then sandal-blisters, manna, and fear.We don't know where this invisible Godwill take us. We don't know how long the walk will be, how safe the passage. We don't know who we're becoming.Then again, neither does God -- optionsare infinite. Can we trust our guidesto find us water in the desert, wisdomfrom the living well? The pillar of cloud lifts.Strike camp. Take heart. Trust the unseen.You're already different from when you began.

Today is the fourteenth day of the Omer, making two weeks of the Omer. We have traveled 14 days in our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

When I thought of the number fourteen, I immediately thought of the sonnet, that classic 14-line form. This is an untraditional sonnet; it has neither rhyme nor meter, though I hope that some of the internal assonance will make up for that.

My favorite translation of the name God gives to Moshe -- Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh -- is "I am becoming Who I am becoming." God is always-becoming, and so are we.

They believed redemption was at hand.When we walk daily through the Sea of Reeds

when we love each other whollydo we glimpse their rapture

feel echoes of their tremblingin our own pounding hearts?

Today is the thirteenth day of the Omer, making one week and five days of the Omer. This is the 13th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm, today is the day of yesod she'b'gevurah, foundation or generation within boundaried strength. I found myself thinking about generations, and about generation of power, and that reminded me of the laundry/machine shop at Hancock Shaker Village.

The penultimate verse hints at a Shaker hymn which I learned from Rabbi David Ingber of Romemu and which I sometimes use at my shul. It's called More Love.

Read the Torah of the geese overhead. Waltz with the Torah in every step.

Today is the 12th day of the Omer, which makes one week and five days of the Omer. Today is the 12th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, between liberation and revelation.

According to one Mussar teaching which maps the days of the Omer to the qualities named in Pirkei Avot, today is the day for focusing on Deliberation, which they name in Hebrew as yishuv hamikra. That webpage links this day with Psalm 1 verse 2, אִם בְּתוֹרַת יְיָ, חֶפְצוֹ; וּבְתוֹרָתוֹ יֶהְגֶּה, יוֹמָם וָלָיְלָה -- "That one's delight is in the Torah of Adonai, and that person meditates on it day and night."

"Torah," of course, can mean much more than just the Five Books of Moses. That's the idea which gave rise to this poem.

The way to hold tree pose:focus on a still pointand let your eyes go soft.Slow your breathing.Grow roots from heel and toe.

The redwoods endure.Imagine the cross-section:here's the fall of the Temple,the writing of the mishna,the 20th century's wars.

What's in your rings?Years of spiritual thirst,years of plenty...And how did your roots reachthe living well?

Draw water up from your depths.Torah percolatingin the xylem and the phloemjust beneath the skin.What flowers will you bloom?

Today is the 11th day of the Omer, which makes one week and four days of the Omer. This is the eleventh day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, from liberation to revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm, today is the day of netzach she'b'gevurah, the day of endurance within the week of boundaried strength. Endurance made me think of redwoods; and trees plus boundaries made me think of the xylem and phloem through which water brings nutrients from a tree's roots to its crown.

and discern the path ahead, the weightof ancient trauma falling away. Boundlike lambs across the hilltops! Balancewith the patient angels. Therewill come, I promise you, a daywhen we encamp around the mountain, free

to receive transmission. Freeyourself from expectation. Waituntil you see the voice that day!You don't have to believe it now, boundby old scripts. Once you're thereharmony will hang in the balance

of old and new, balanceof rearview mirror and windshield freefrom roadsalt's cloud. There'smuch to be said for learning how to wait,how to live within the boundsof celebrating what God has made today.

Balance urge to run, willingness to wait.The trip is free. Blessings abound.Trust you'll be there on the 50th day.

Today is the tenth day of the Omer, making one week and three days of the Omer. Today is the tenth day on our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm, today is the day of tiferet (balance and harmony) within the week of gevurah (boundaries, strength, judgement.)

Today's poem is a sestina, one of my favorite poetic forms. (If you click on the "sestina" tag in the sidebar you'll see the many others which I've posted here over the years.)

Can you still hear the song at the sea?Remember the melody, soaring.We all walked together, my hand on your shoulder.You gained a new name in the journey.

Remember the melody, soaring?You carried your ancestors' bonesand gained a new name in the journey.Sing now the song of your wholeness.

You carried your ancestors' bones.Sing peace for the cousins who bicker,sing them the song of your wholeness.Reveal your yearning without fear.

Sing peace for the cousins who bicker.This is the gift: a channel with walls.Reveal your yearning without fear.Pour out your love. The container will hold.

This is the gift: a channel with walls.Don't let the wonder recede.Pour out your love. The container will hold.How did you feel when your waters parted?

Don't let the wonder recede.We all walked together, my hand on your shoulder... How did you feel when your waters parted?Can you still hear the song at the sea?

Today is the ninth day of the Omer, making one week and two days of the Omer. Today is the ninth day of our journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

As I wrote this, I was thinking about how it feels to be after the seder, trying to hold on to the spiritual high even as time keeps pulling us away. Also about the Song at the Sea. This went through a few revisions, and around draft 3 I realized that it wanted to be a pantoum and it all came together.

Today is the eighth day of the Omer, making one week and one day of the Omer. This is the 8th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In working on today's poem, I found myself paying particular attention to rhythm. This is a good one to read aloud.

This second week of the Omer, in the kabbalistic paradigm, is the week of gevurah -- boundaried strength or discipline. That drew me to the image of God as Judge, which in turn reminded me that the Hebrew word which means to pray, להתפלל / l'hitpallel, literally means to judge oneself or to discern oneself.

The final two lines are Reb Zalman z"l's rendering of the Hebrew words which follow the shema, baruch shem k'vod malchuto l'olam va'ed, which we recite aloud only on Yom Kippur. Though we do sing them aloud in the prayer Ana B'Koach, which some have the tradition of reciting after counting the Omer each day.

Re: "I gravitate / toward this old-fashioned leather strap..." -- that's a reference to tefillin, about which I have blogged many times before.

When I say that we're blessed -- I mean we're loved the way we are,but what do those words mean to you?(How do you feel when I say Adonai?)Do the prayers actually describe ourrelationship with the One we call God,whether source or force, wellspring or ruler?The terms are imprecise. None ofthem could part the Sea of Reeds. Theonly thing I know is, the universeis expanding and my heart with it. You know the song that says we're enough? Makea habit, sing it every day. Each of usis a reflection of the holy:not despite our differences but withthem. Love the One with all yourheart, with all you are. All the mitzvotadd up to this: every sinew in the body andevery day of the year, hear the commandto love. The obligation's on usto ready ourselves for the download, tomake these forty-nine days count.Can you see Sinai from here? Themountain awaits. Bring the Omer.

Today is the seventh day of the Omer, making one week of our journey from Pesach to Shavuot, from liberation to revelation.

Today's poem takes the form called a golden shovel. If you read the last word of every line, you get "Blessed are You, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe; You make us holy with Your mitzvot, and command us to count the Omer" -- the traditional blessing recited alongside the actual counting of each day.

"All the mitzvot / add up to this: every sinew in the body and / every day of the year" -- in Jewish tradition, it is taught that there are 613 mitzvot (connective-commandments) in the Torah. Tradition further says that there are 248 positive mitzvot, one for each of the bones and sinews in the body, and 365 negative ones, one for each day of the year. Whether or not there are actually 248 parts of the human body, I love the idea that the mitzvot can be related to every day of our lives and to all that we are.